Nothing or Nobody
by Fiona Fargazer
Summary: Ultra Beasts are everywhere and they all seem to be after one person. Guzma. On top of that he is ill with an unknown disease. But the first person who claims to be able to cure him is not at all trustworthy. (slight AU)
1. A Miserable Day in Po Town

JMJ

Nothing or Nobody

CHAPTER 1: A Miserable Day in Po Town

 _How could a person have anything but a miserable day in Po Town, anyway?_ thought Plumeria.

Straight and heavy streams of rain poured down from the clouds. Black as pitch the sky loomed above and all save water striking the pavement was silent. Not a rumble of thunder could be heard. Somehow it seemed to make the scene more ominous and miserable. As though the entire town was only one soggy ghost town. One would hardly know that the town had been newly repopulated by its original inhabitants, but most people who lived in Po Town did not work in Po Town. It did not have a school except one small daycare school nearer to Rout 17. The inhabitants otherwise commuted elsewhere during the day hours. Hardly anyone was every around until about five o'clock. That was one of the reasons why Guzma had originally chosen this place as his base of operations. Atmosphere, no doubt, was the main other reason.

Plumeria lifted her head up to the roof of Shady House, the old mansion that had not been lived in for years save for the now disbanded Team Skull. Yet if the team was disbanded, why was she here? And to say that the place was entirely silent was only true beyond the front walk of Shady House, for she was not alone. The two grunts that had dragged her here now scuffled a little as they wondered why they were lingering outside in the rain, but not as much as Plumeria wanted to know why they were here at all: why Guzma was back at the mansion.

She had already made it clear to her younger guides that she had no interest in rejoining the team, but they had insisted that this had nothing to do with team business. It had to do with Guzma himself. How they had talked her into this she could not now recall.

With a scowl, she marched up the steps and flung open the door with such force that it was as if a wind had taken her short sleeved duster behind her like a cape (she had recently won it in a pokémon battle). It whipped about with more atmosphere than was good for the other supposedly former grunts all waiting inside. There were at least a dozen in all including the ones that brought her. At least most of the other grunts she knew had had the sense to go on with their lives after the team was no more, but even this few seemed far too many to have remained here. … or recently returned.

"Oh, good!" said one. "You found her, yo!"

Then they all started talking at once.

"I couldn't find her anywhere." "That's cuz you were only lookin' at the old haunts." "Now way, I'm not dumb!" "As dumb as a piedove." "Yo! That's uncalled for." "No way!" "She said she'd be at the Battle Tree and all." "Well, that's where we looked." "Yo, but she wasn't there when—"

"Ahem!" Plumeria interrupted. "C'mon, you guys. Cut it out, will ya? Why am I here? What's the scam? You're freaking out."

"No scam, Big Sis," they insisted. "No way, yo!" "It's our boy!" "Something wrong with him." "We don't know what!" "He—" 

"Just—" Plumeria held up her hands and only now shut the door behind her. "One at a time, okay? Sid. Tell me what's going on."

She had to choose one to speak, and she knew Sid was good at stating things pretty straightforwardly.

Sid nodded and hunkered over nervously as he glanced up the stairs, as though he thought that the creaks and groans of the mansion above were the sounds of Guzma's ghost.

"Is he up there?" asked Plumeria following his gaze, and she crossed her arms.

"Yeah, he's up there," insisted another grunt.

"Okay, I just want one person to tell me," said Plumeria.

Again Sid nodded as he returned to Plumeria. "It's like this, Sis. He shows up one day. We're minding our own business here, and he seems like he's in a real bad mood, yo."

"His eyes were darker than usual. Kinda scary," said another grunt.

"Just, Sid, first," insisted Plumeria.

"He goes up stairs and slams the door and doesn't come out, yo!" said Sid. "Not to eat, not to do nothin' for days."

"How do you know he didn't just go get something from his room quick and leave out the window on the roof?" asked Plumeria.

"No way, yo!" cried another grunt. "We hear the boss up there a lot."

Plumeria sighed. "He's not your boss anymore."

"Moaning, pacing, grumbling," said Sid; none of the grunts seemed to have heard Plumeria

"When we knock on the door he's like a ursaring growling!" exclaimed another.

Rubbing her temple a moment and trying not to lose her temper even though these former grunts were not supposed to be in this house at all, much less Guzma. When she pulled down her hand she looked around at the grunts once more.

"He's been up there for days?" she demanded.

"Yeah. Three."

"Oh," she growled.

"Whadya you gunna do, Big Sis?" asked Sid.

But Plumeria did not answer. Marching up the stairs, with a face set like stone with determination, she did not stop until she came to the door. She paused and briefly put her ear to it. Nothing could be heard per se, but that did not mean Guzma was not in there. Roughly, she knocked.

"Guzma, you in there?" she demanded.

Unintelligible growling returned to her, but it was definitely Guzma growling.

"Aren't you gunna come out?" Plumeria snapped back throwing her hands on her hips. "You know what the police might think if they find you in here again. And your poor little punks are worried sick about you."

She could not bring herself to call them grunts anymore. Though, she had to admit, she was almost as angry with them as she was with Guzma at this point as they slowly crept up the stairs after her and were now standing behind her wringing their hands anxiously.

"I told them and I tell you: beat it!" growled Guzma through the door. He was so upset that his voice cracked.

"You can't stay in there forever."

This time Guzma did not answer and the grunts muttered and whispered amongst themselves even more anxiously than before.

Plumeria groaned and closed her eyes. Reaching for her pocket she pulled out a pokéball.

"All right, that's it."

As her salazzle emerged in the flash from the pokéball she threw out her other arm towards the door and ordered, "Salazzle, flame thrower the door in!"

The grunts gasped behind her wide eyed as the door was blasted inward in a burst of flame. Perhaps her muk's brick break might have been safer for the job, but salazzle was the most skilled of her pokémon. Although some sparks flew out nothing but the door caught on fire, and the door was only a black sheet of charred wood where it landed on the floor as though falling flat on its face before Guzma's throne, but no one sat upon the throne.

Plumeria stepped inside in surprise to find Guzma bolted upright on the bed to one side of the singed doorframe. With eyes blazing and swollen red, he snarled, "You whacked or somethin'?!"

Plumeria returned her pokémon and crossed her arms after putting the pokéball back in her pocket.

"Not as whacked as you," she muttered.

"Get out of here, you freak!" snapped Guzma. "You just blasted down my door! What's the matter with you!? I say get lost, I mean get lost! So beat it! Before I make you! Mind your own business!"

"But you're not supposed to be here, Guzma. I thought you were gunna challenge at the Battle Tree, and yet here you are sulking and feeling sorry for yourself about how your stupid team failed!"

"Feeling sorry for myself!" snarled Guzma beginning to pant heavily and Plumeria now noticed how the sweat began to appear on his brow and how pale that brow was besides that wild mess of bed-head hair. "You think that's what I'm doing in here? I came to be alone where no one would bother me! If you thought it was so stupid anyway, why did you come with me?"

"Cuz I didn't know how stupid it was then! I thought you knew that too! I should've known better! You're more stubborn than a mudbray."

"Oh shut up and go away!"

The dark circles around his eyes were not just mascara. In fact most of the mascara seemed to have come off. His face contorted painfully as though he was fighting to keep up his tough façade. The fact that he had not gotten to his feet suddenly disturbed Plumeria, and she wondered if he had truly gone three or four days without food or water, but as she glanced around she saw that there were laying about wrappers and paper plates and bottles of beer and soda. Well, maybe he had gone a few days without water, but he was not exactly starving.

"Are you drunk?" she asked

"No!" growled Guzma. "Ran out of beer and sake a day ago."

She turned back to him looking worse than before as he pulled himself to the edge of his bed and leered like some monster at its last breath.

"You gunna leave or what?" growled Guzma.

Plumeria frowned and she felt annoyed somehow that she suddenly felt so sorry for him.

"You look terrible," she said, "you should go home, Guzma. You can't run a team now even without the warning from the police."

"I'm not here to restart the team!" cried Guzma, and he moaned.

"Then go home!" cried Plumeria.

Collapsing purposefully back onto his bed Guzma growled.

"I would've gone back," he muttered almost unintelligibly.

"What's the matter with you?" Plumeria wanted to know, and she drew close enough to reach out her hand to his trembling back, but just as her finger graced the slick surface of the duct tape on his hoodie he leapt up again.

"Go away!" he growled.

"Fine," Plumeria snapped back, "but I'm calling a doctor."

"What?!" demanded Guzma. "You can't do that."

"Well, you're sick aren't you?" demanded Plumeria. "You're such a big baby. You should've just stayed at home in bed and had soup or whatever instead of hiding here. You probably just made yourself worse! If you're sick, you should get help."

"I …!"

Guzma stopped and dropped his head downwards in reluctant defeat. He was too ill even to come up with a good comeback anymore. At least he was aware of himself enough to know that anything he would say in argument would only make him look more foolish.

"Then do it," grumbled Guzma. "There's a doctor in town I think."

"If he's in, there is," muttered Plumeria. She paused. "Just don't strain yourself anymore, will you? I'll be back with the doctor, and eat something decent."

Guzma did not answer but allowed himself to collapse a second time onto his bed and grabbing his arms against his chest he turned to face the wall.

Plumeria sighed once more as she turned to see the teen faces staring like a school of magikarp in the doorway.

"Tessa," she said.

"Yeah, Sis?" asked one of those faces timidly.

"You know how to cook, right?"

"The best, Sis."

"Get him some soup, 'kay?"

"You bet. I can make up some miso soup right now. Saved the stock and all."

"Good," said Plumeria, who knew very little about cooking.

As she came out of the room, the grunts stepped back for her, and she descended down the stairs and out the door back into the rain. She could not help her groan as she sloshed through a puddle. At least the rain had lessened somewhat, she noticed. It was little wonder that the whole place did not flood, but it seemed the trees which enclosed Po Town soaked up any water that might cause too much of a problem. But one could be certain that few people felt there to be any use in a cellar here.

And speaking of the inhabitants, they began to arrive as she came to the doctor's office. The secretary told her that the doctor was out on a house call and it might be a few moments before he arrived. This meant, naturally, that he would be gone for a good hour at least, if Plumeria knew anything about doctors— not that she had had much personal experience with one. In fact there were few institutions that did not make her feel uncomfortable. She sat on an hard chair facing a large painting on the wall that seemed to have been made larger than it was supposed to be, for had it been the size of a notebook one would have been able to see the non-detailed tree and fence from across the room, but the view of the simple tree was far better than watching stupid shows where talking heads tried to figure out psychological meanings behind the latest news stories. Some of those news stories were too fresh and personal to want to hear about on the news.

She sighed.

She did not like being in such a pouty mood, but she felt she could not help it. When those silly grunts had come to get her she had already been in a sort of funk. After Team Skull had first disbanded she had never felt so pumped for a new life as a pokémon trainer. She had even managed to reach the Battle Tree, but once that goal had been met, she never got it far there. Not more than one or two battles could she beat, and she felt that no matter how hard she loved her pokémon they would not get any stronger. Certainly the time had still been very short since the Ultra Worm Hole thing and President Lusamine being taken out of the region somewhere, but Plumeria was already beginning to second guess herself.

Maybe Guzma was too, not that she had ever known him to second guess anything that he had ever decided, but he still must feel somewhat at a loss as to what to do next with his life. Duct taping the Team Skull logo on his back might have been a form of rebellion, but to Plumeria it was also a sign that he did not know how to move on anymore than those few grunts that still insisted on hanging around him after his return to Po Town. Maybe he just got sick in Shady House when he had gone there to think. It was not exactly the healthiest place to hang out in the world, especially in a slump.

On top of all her thoughts too, Plumeria wondered why she had to feel sorry for the jerk anyway. He could easily go home if he wanted to.

She crossed her arms and slumped back in her seat.

When the doctor finally arrived about an hour and a half later, he still seemed to be taking his time to follow her to Shady House. She could not tell for certain, because of his very calm façade, but she though she perceived that he was reluctant to go, especially when he heard who it was he was to go see and how Plumeria urged him to come quickly.

"I thought there were only a few punks in there lurking about," said the doctor. "We've been chasing them out on off since it disbanded. I had no idea the Team Skull boss had returned."

"He's hardly a threat at this point," said Plumeria as if the doctor had not already decided to come, which he had and was getting some equipment ready and packed as they spoke.

"We should probably tell Officer Nanu about it too."

Plumeria could not help the sinking feeling inside her. It was not as if Guzma did not deserve to get into trouble.

"Please," said Plumeria, "not until after you've seen him. I don't think he means any harm at this point. He's just acting like a wounded lyconroc that just found what he thinks is the best place not to be bothered. Stupid, I know, but I know he's not doing anything wrong other than actually being here."

 _Why am I standing up for the idiot_? she thought angrily, beside herself even while she spoke. _A wounded lyconroc? Guzma, what's the matter with_ you _? Forget that. What's the matter with me?_

But she spoke no more as she followed the doctor to Shady House. The only thing that she felt grateful for was that the rain had actually decided to stop for a change. The warm reds and oranges of the setting sun even filtered through the town giving it a tint of calm beauty mostly unknown to it. Yet she did not see it so much as beauty as a breath of relief before another storm. Dark clouds were coming from the southwest.

"Big Sis!" exclaimed the grunt as she opened the door.

The grunts had been pacing and fidgeting almost as though Guzma was already on his death bed, but they jumped in alarm to see the doctor with Plumeria. A couple of them even tried to hide from him, but the doctor did not turn to them, though he did mutter something about it would be better for them to find a better place to spend the night.

Guzma could be found in his room still. He looked little better than the last time Plumeria saw him, but he had eaten his bowl of soup and leapt with a sort of angry start at the sound of someone moving his door which he had had his grunts set up again as best they could against the doorway to block the view of the room inside.

Although his expressions proved horrible to behold, Guzma too said very little, but answered the doctor's questions without any trouble after a short check.

"I dunno," he muttered, "a few days ago." "No, it started before I got here, I think. I felt a little weird, kinda worn out but nothing that I thought about hard." "Yeah, I went out that day, but it started that morning when I got up." "Thought I could shake it. I kinda forgot about it during the course of the day. I battled some dumb kid. Did some stuff." "I feel… right now…" Guzma hesitated exceedingly, and he leered dangerously at Plumeria, "worn out. My whole body doesn't want to do anything like it wants to go into hibernation or something stupid like that."

The doctor mused. "Hmm … do you think you can come down to the clinic with me?"

"Why?" Guzma demanded.

"Well, it's inconclusive yet exactly what, but there is something wrong with you," said the doctor. "I think it's beyond being tired or drinking or drugs."

"I'm not on drugs, doc," grumbled Guzma darkly.

"No you're not," said the doctor, "but I want our clinic audino to have a look at you."

"Why?" asked Plumeria suddenly who had up to this point been watching quietly and patiently from behind. "What do you think's wrong with him?"

Guzma glowered.

"I'm not going to say anything until I have something concrete to say," said the doctor, "I'll bring her here, if that would make you more comfortable, but after that you have to go home."

"Fine," said Guzma.

"I'll be back very soon," said the doctor then as he picked up his things. "Don't move until I return."

" _Tch_."

It was the only response Guzma gave, and as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling in complete and utter disgust he leered as though to burn through the roof with X-ray vision.

Plumeria paused after the doctor left the room, and hugging her arms she released a sort of pout. She wanted to say something encouraging, but even had she thought of something she knew that Guzma would not appreciate it right now.

"My girl," said the doctor softly then from the hall.

Still looking at the unresponsive Guzma, she stepped out into the hall until the doorframe blocked her view of him and then turning to the doctor she muttered, "Yeah."

"Make him this tea," said the doctor handing her a packet of dried plant. "It should make him feel a little better. If it's a weakness, that's troubling him, this should rejuvenate him enough for a fitful sleep. At this point I think that sleep is the best thing for him, and maybe when we return he won't even know we've come, Addie and I."

"Sure, doc," said Plumeria taking the tea.

She followed him down the stairs and to the door with the anxious grunts.

"Give it to us straight, doc!" cried Sid suddenly.

"Yeah," agreed the others rushing the doctor.

"Is he gunna die?" "Will he ever recover?" "Is it catchable?" "What's wrong with him, doc?"

"Nothing's certain yet," the doctor replied having a little difficulty hiding his annoyance, "but you children know better than to be here. He might have caught it from this old dilapidated place. I always thought it should be torn down. You should go with Nanu and he'll find a place for you to spend the night."

He pointed to the fallen chandelier in the middle of one of the landings of the stairs. "This place is a disaster waiting to happen in more ways than one in such a wet place with no one taking care of it since the eighties. Not even pokémon make their homes here. Think about that."

"Oh, that chandelier didn't fall cuz of being dilipated," said a grunt.

"Yeah, that was Zach having a battle out with Hiro," said Tessa.

"They're both gone, yo," said Sid.

"And good riddance," muttered another grunt.

Plumeria sighed. "We'll be gone after you have your audino check him over," she promised.

The doctor nodded and left the house.

"Aw, c'mon, Big Sis," said Sid. "This place is cool."

"Not if that's how Guzma got sick," muttered Plumeria; though somehow she doubted that was the reason. She thought the doctor doubted it too.


	2. Storm Siren

JMJ

CHAPTER 2: Storm Siren

Although it had been terribly bitter, the tea had no aftertaste. Even had it left one, it was more relaxing than Guzma would have admitted. All tension and discomfort seemed to be folded out like wrinkles in a sheet. Maybe it just proved how tired he truly was, but why he was so tired, that was the problem in the first place. Although he had been determined to be awake for the audino's arrival he was as unconscious as a stone in the sea before long, and like being swept away into strange warm waters off the coast of a quiet beach he was swept off into dreams without knowing it had happened.

The sound of those comforting waves and the warmth of the sun seemed so far away when staying in Po Town, but slowly and steadily he emerged into that familiar scene. He felt quite peaceful …

 _The sand gleamed like one great jewel before him. His bare feet at the same time felt the softness of its touch. A cerulean surf rolled into the shore, and there seemed to be nothing about more than a few stray wingull overhead, but the peace did not last for long._

" _How can you have respect for yourself if you have no respect for others?" asked a familiar voice._

 _It was the voice of Hala._

Stupid old man _, Guzma thought even in his dreams._

 _But Hala was not so old, nor was he so short. Guzma found that he had to look up at him rather than down upon him as a strong high-pitched voice responded from within himself, "It was only a joke. I can't help it if they don't like it! They shouldn't dis bug pokémon."_

" _It was not fair to the pokémon or to the people you did that to."_

" _I just dropped a caterpie onto their lunch," said Guzma, "so what? They thought caterpies were dumb so I showed 'em how dumb they were." He could not help but laugh a little._

" _But they were so startled that the caterpie got hurt and one of them was strung up by its string shot. Every action you make creates a ripple to all around you. I know that what you did was not truly ill intended more than to give them a fright, but I only want you to use this as a lesson. You are very strong-willed in all that you do, but you should not let that strength run away with you to a level you cannot control."_

 _As Hala spoke clouds began to darken the sky._

" _Aw, c'mon, Master Hala, I thought you were a master of battling not stuff like that."_

" _I am," said Hala simply, "the best way to learn how to train any living thing is to first learn how to train yourself…"_

Stupid old man _, thought Guzma again, but the little boy's head lowered guiltily if not also a little sulkily._ I'll show him. I know how to control—

 _CRACK_!

Guzma bolted upright in bed just in time to see the flashing of lightning spasms through his window lighting the room like a snowy white fireworks display. The thunder resounding with it shook Shady House as to knock it down flat.

With teeth clenched he looked around and saw that the electric generator which was usually powered up now and again by some electric pokémon the grunts had on hand was out unless Plumeria had turned off his lamp. Only the sound of rain sounded near at hand; though there were a couple exclamations very faintly down stairs of grunts freaking out. Yes, the electricity had gone out all right. Yet something else was not right. He did not even think about how long it had been or if the doctor and his audino had appeared on the scene or not. All he thought was that something was nearby. Something that should not be; though he saw nothing.

For the first time that evening he slid out of bed and he shivered slightly as a breeze blew in through the window. He stepped closer with care towards it to look outside, but half way across the floor he stopped suddenly.

A spark.

Guzma squinted.

Then a spray of light not from lightning shone dangerously like a livewire just outside, but he did not have time to examine it further as the window crashed inward. Guzma leapt back and tumbled back against his bed. A strange noise that sounded like a cross between a growl and an electric charge sizzled through the air, drying it and almost sizzling the ends of his hair as it tingled his skin.

The creature to which this sound belonged too was crashing right through the ceiling as it almost slithered in like some great electric snake, but it possessed an almost humanoid shape. It's head was shrouded in a blinding electric pulse, and a thick tail-like appendage swung and crashed into his shelf, causing a dozen old bottles and many boxes and a couple stray magazines and books to come crashing into the floor too.

It was no pokémon Guzma had ever seen, and no pokémon in Alola that he knew of had ever been known to attack people in their homes minding their own business. But somehow he knew it was no ordinary pokémon. As his mind raced frantically and his body remained outwards merely panting with his back against the bed, he was reminded of the ultra beasts from the worm hole he and the Aether Foundation president had opened to that other world.

Had this been a dream, he admittedly would have liked it better than a dream about Hala educating him, but it was not a dream. It was not a nightmare. It was right before him and he would much rather be on the beach talking with Hala anytime than be here.

Finally his mind picked one of the options flashing through it. He reached under his bed quickly and fumbled for a sack with his pokéballs in it. He reached for the first one. He knew his golisopod's ball by touch, and he threw it as hard he could towards the creature.

At first golisopod was ready for action, but with one look at the snarling electric beast, he staggered a little and let out queer sound of fright.

"Golisopod—"

But before Guzma could give him a command the frightened pokémon returned himself into the ball.

"No, idiot!" cried Guzma. "You're supposed to fight! This is no time to act like a coward! Get back out here!"

He threw the ball again, but just as the great cowardly bug emerged again there came a shout from the hallway.

"Guzma!" cried Plumeria.

She had a pokémon already out and without anymore thought, she called out: "Crobat, poison jab!"

The crobat obeyed. Instantly both Guzma and Plumeria knew that such an attack was a bad idea however, for no sooner had the crobat bit the creature and it fell down electrocuted. It landed on the floor like an old rag, the poor creature, and Plumeria gasped.

Yet the attack had not been an entirely futile move, for the creature itself seemed to have been hurt, even if not much. It had diminished a little, but it certainly was not out. The poison must have taken affect.

Plumeria returned the crobat.

With the headboard Guzma pushed himself onto his feet.

But the creature was already leaving again out the window. It seemed more confused than hurt, but its interest in Shady House was lost at least. It disappeared though it seemed angry still as it electrocuted the trees in the backyard with a bit of a tantrum, Plumeria saw as she ran to what was left of the window. Then she turned back to Guzma.

He was slipping to his knees.

Golisopod turned around too in concern as Plumeria ran to him.

"Are you all right?"

Panting heavily for a moment more with eyes closed and fists clenched, at first he did not answer. He had to fully comprehend what had happened, but as Plumeria opened her mouth to ask again, Guzma spat, "Yeah, peachy."

Plumeria frowned, and Guzma let her.

#

Everyone had almost forgotten about the doctor when he arrived. It was only nine o'clock, but the storm made it feel like midnight. When he came in and closed his umbrella he apologized for not coming right away.

"The electricity went out and I was helping the others with the fuse box," he said; his audino Addie trotted in carefully behind him; she already looked concerned, but perhaps it was the state of the house which spooked her. "There was some complications and then, ah … I see the electricity is out here too."

"Yeah," said a grunt rather absently as she fidgeted and looked up at the ceiling.

"Is Plumeria up there with him?" asked the doctor as he climbed up the steps.

"Yo, lightning like struck the house, doc!" exclaimed another grunt as some followed him up.

One grunt tried to pet Addie, but she jolted so suddenly in surprise that the grunt quickly pulled her hand back in. It must also be noted that the one or two pokémon belonging to the grunts that had been outside of their balls during the excitement going on upstairs had long since ran and hid somewhere in the house, but the grunts did not quite make the connection with the behavior of their pokémon and the behavior of Addie.

Plumeria was with Guzma who had just climbed back into bed without accepting her help, and she straightened herself as she turned to the doctor and the grunts appearing in the empty doorway.

The doctor gasped.

"What happened here?" he demanded.

"Some weird … I don't even know," said Plumeria. "It attacked with the lightning and broke through the window. I never seen anything like it before."

"Really!?" gasped Sid.

"A pokémon?" asked the doctor.

"We scared it or confused it away, I think," said Plumeria, "but I think that's what caused the outage. Uh, we're not hurt."

"Are you sure?"

It was very dark in the room and little could be seen aside from the broken window with its rain streaming in.

The grunts all hurried to Plumeria and asked her all at once about a dozen varied questions about the attack. The doctor meanwhile gazed out a moment or so the gaping hole in the wall with Addie close to his side. Then he and Addie turned to Guzma barely more visible than a shadow amongst shadows on his bed behind Plumeria and his grunts.

"Let me help you downstairs, Mr. Guzma."

" _Tch_ ," said all Guzma said, but it was apparently not a refusal, for he allowed the doctor to help him to his feet, but he walked himself down the stairs.

To be more private, Plumeria suggested taking him into her old room, which not only did not have a gaping hole to the outside, also had a working door. As she led the way and opened the door with a bright lantern in hand, she had forgotten that she had left most of her things still in there before they stepped inside. Despite the situation she felt a little embarrassed about the plushies and doodads still floating around, but the doctor was oblivious to what the room looked like as motioned for Guzma to sit down upon the bed, and Guzma could not have cared less.

"Now be quite still and straight. It's easier for Addie to do her job then."

Before Guzma could reply the audino had hopped over to him and uncoiled her ear. She pressed it against his chest; the thin white shirt between the opening of his short-sleeved jacket he wore was apparently no barrier for her. She listened intently for a moment or two and then she began to look uncomfortable again.

Addie paused, looked at Guzma, then hopped onto the bed and listened again at his back.

Guzma was beginning to feel uncomfortable himself and he turned his head a little back at her before the doctor reminded him to be still. Returning his head towards him, Guzma slumped and glared.

Addie made a little exclamation then and went back to listen at his chest once more. She made another exclamation and looked most upset when turned to the doctor. Naturally, she could not speak, but the doctor had a broad touch screen upon which the audino had been trained to use through a type of color coding in order to tell the doctor basically what was wrong with him. When the doctor looked, he became very grave.

"Well!?" demanded Guzma jumping onto his feet. "What? What is it? Cancer? What?"

"I don't know," said the doctor. "Some of the indications are similar, but not quite, but you're losing strength fast. It won't be long before you're completely bedridden. At the rate you're deteriorating you might not have long. I'll call an ambulance."

"What?" demanded Guzma again. "What if she's wrong?"

"It's still serious," said the doctor picking up his cell phone. "The clinic cannot help you. You're to go to Malie City."

"Malie City?" asked Plumeria.

"Yes, and you should get the others out of here too!"

"But I can't be _that_ sick!" gasped Guzma. "I was just fine! I'm always just fine! She made a mistake. I'm at the prime of my life here!"

"Do you want us to help you or not?" demanded the doctor. "When I'm done calling an ambulance we're going to call your parents too about this."

Guzma growled and kicked the edge of the bed.

" _Diii_!" exclaimed Addie as she reached out a paw so that she could lean on him comfortingly.

That just disturbed Guzma all the more and while the doctor was on the phone he nearly kicked her.

"Guzma!" hissed Plumeria.

Guzma flung himself upon the bed on his back sideways along it and covered his eyes with his hands as he let out a moan.

#

Guzma tried not to look at the bewildered grunts as he was led outside to the ambulance with a look on his face as though he was being taken away instead in police car. Somehow he almost would have preferred it. Almost. The grunts seemed to watch him as though the police had more to do with this than medical staff. They looked about to flee at any given moment despite wide-eyed concern. He did not look at Plumeria at all except to note that she was crossing her arms as she watched. She probably had them crossed out of nervousness.

As for Guzma himself he felt wearier than ever, but who could tell how much of that weariness was his seemingly unknown illness and just how much he hated the situation? As he was closed up in the vehicle he straightened himself and crossed his arms proudly and defiantly for his followers (team or not) to see that he was not about to be brought low by this.

No illness was going to beat him down, he was telling them.

He remained sitting that way too long after the doors had been shut until the doctors had other plans for him, but his defiance did not leave him. He determined this to himself, though rage and fear and confusion and even sorrow stormed inside of him. He was big bad Guzma. Nothing or nobody takes him down.


	3. Breakout

JMJ

CHAPTER 3: Breakout

Some said that the most beautiful city in Alola was Malie City. Some claimed too that it was the most interesting city with the most to see and do. It certainly was one of the most expensive places to live in Alola and one of the most expensive places to shop, but it also was said to have the nicest and most up-to-date hospital, the finest medical facility in the region.

Not that any of this mattered to Guzma as he lay uncomforted by the latest in support beds in a gleaming hospital room with a broad window overlooking Malie Gardens and out to the sea beyond. The view may have been luxurious, but the blinds were drawn and only open enough to allow streaks of light to come through and not to actually see out. The blinds remained that way too, and no one could change his mind about it.

His parents came to see him, of course. His mother stayed all day the first day he was there. Plumeria and a few of the grunts (and a couple officially X-grunts of her friends) also came to see him. He did not admit it, but he was glad for the visitors, even if he would have preferred that those weirdoes who still called him "boss" were not there. He was only glad that Hala had not decided to come or that stupid girl Snowdrop*.

But visitors or no visitors, Guzma could not be cheered up by doctors who were ever concerned but did not know what the matter was with him, and he could feel himself grow worse. He blamed it on the hospital atmosphere, but he knew deep down the truth. A weakness had descended upon him, pressing down on him slowly but surely harder and harder until it would flatten him. No one part of his body seemed to house the culprit. He just seemed to be fading away for no apparent reason, for he was quite healthy otherwise.

The tests and questions were almost too much for him to bear as they moved him about from one hypothesis to the next, and he was too grumpy, too sulky, too tired and angry to think about what might have caused it himself. When he was alone, which was not often, as he looked over the city through the blinds like some gloomy overlord upon a despised kingdom., his mind usually shifted to the attack on Shady House. The Ultra Worm Hole incident was never far behind. That thing had been an Ultra Beast. Somehow he knew it; though it had looked nothing like the deep-sea jellyfish out of water that Lusamine had been after, but she had released some through other worm holes. He thought that those had been taken care of or had gone back to their alternate dimension. He had not told anyone yet what he thought. Perhaps it was because he hoped he was wrong.

Then on the second night after the doctors and nurses left him to get some rest, it came to him. The illness somehow had something to do with the Ultra Beasts. There was no other explanation, and the rumbling outside his window seemed right on cue …

SLASH

He had barely time to swing his head towards the window when almost the entire outside wall was sliced through like butter. It tumbled down and fell with a crash on the pavement below, but he did not hear its landing when he looked up at the floating creature that had done the deed.

His jaw dropped and for a second or two he sat up in bed motionless.

 _You gotta be kidding me_ , he thought, but he still could not move.

A horrible metallic screeching was loosed from the metallic beast upon which every edge and angle seemed as sharp as a katana blade. It was like a hundred blades animated into a vaguely humanoid shape.

Guzma bolted.

All weakness and illness was quickly forgotten as he raced out the door leaving the alarm on his bed going off. Adrenaline was the only thing running him now as he scurried through the halls like a frightened rattata, the grips on his hospital socks squeaking at every turn.

It was an Ultra Beast. There was no question. And it was after _him_. Why was it after him? Why was it even in his dimension? He had seen nothing like that that could have escaped the worm hole. Not even one of those stupid jellyfish things had escaped. But somehow they were getting out, and they had picked him out to hunt down.

"Hey, what are you doing?" cried a nurse, but he did not stop.

The nurse did not have time to attempt anything to stop him either, for she turned around and gasped at the creature in the corridor.

Forgetting the elevator he ran down a flight of side stairs and swung out the door. A face full of pavement almost rammed at him as he stumbled outside and caught himself on the doorknob. He was in the parking lot, but he did not stop there. Across the street he flew into the dead of night. It was the last street of the city of Malie, and the thick brush blocked the sight of the road lay like a jungle wall on the other side. He ducked down into a ditched and tripped, but he was not down for long.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he squeaked furiously. "This whole thing is so stupid."

Picking himself up, he ran further into the brush quickly sparser than at the road's edge, like a park forest. It almost was aside from the steep mounds and deep holes. Painfully snapping twigs and tripping over plants he went until he collapsed in a rather sheltered ditch that he had not seen until he fell into it.

Night noises echoes around him and some scurrying ratatta and possibly a raticate fled away from him, and he was left in the natural tub by himself. There was even some mud for him at the bottom, but the adrenaline had run its course. He felt suddenly so exhausted that he could barely crawl out of the mud, and he did not make it out of the hole.

Panting and gasping for breath that was not coming to him in the depth he needed, he collapsed dizzily onto his face and moaned bitterly. Consciousness left him in a swirl of night …

#

… _The eerie cry was perceived before he even saw the glittering, otherworldly cave around him. It did not concern him at first— that cry. He thought that it just the sound of going from one world to the next. He never would have guessed that that sound would one day haunt his dreams._

 _All around him crystal shards came out of blue and purple stone and gleamed so brilliantly that they seemed to make a sound themselves. The sound of glowing crystal. For a moment he even wondered if the ultra beasts were inside of them or had something to do with them anyway. They glowed like underwater lamps, dimly in comparison to the bright sterile whiteness of the Aether Foundation._

" _Pres?" he called suddenly remembering that he had not come here alone._

 _She did not seem to be around, but he knew she could not be far. Lusamine wanted to finish what she came here to do. Now that he was here he could start right away himself what he had come to do; though, he could not see anything but those gleaming shards as he stepped forward to explore. Sometimes out of the corner of his eye they even seemed to move. When he would turn there would be nothing there, though he could hear that eerie whistling cry. It seemed to grow more numerous and louder the further he went._

 _He spun around at a sudden thought._

 _The wormhole._

 _It was not open, but perhaps it just was not visible._

 _Lusamine knew what she was doing and he was not too concerned, but he did not want to lose its location. He thought about checking to make sure, but he was suddenly distracted by an emerging movement very near him. With a gasp he jumped back and saw that luminous creature almost translucent in this ethereal environment. It shifted just a little, only a few feet away from Guzma, and it almost disappeared. Then it became fully visible again, and Guzma reached for an pokéball._

Oh, crap! _He thought angrily._ My pokémon are almost all fainted by those dumb kids.

 _But he would not let that stop him._

 _Scizor was the only pokémon that had anything left in him, but not much, he knew. He threw him out._

"Sciiiii _!" Scizor exclaimed._

 _He was ready to fight; though Guzma could tell he was worn out and very uncomfortable. Somehow however, this only strengthened Guzma's resolve to fight rather than not. He did not squat leisurely as he would when opposing a party owned by another person. Upright he stood and leered at his foe. With determination he thrust out his finger towards the floating jellyfish-like creature and commanded, "Scizor,X-scissor!_

 _Scizor tried to obey. His pokémon did not like the ultra beast even besides wanting to please his master, but he was too weak. Guzma was not certain what the ultra beast did back as an attack or what it would be called, but one second Scizor was up and the next he was down._

 _A yungoos probably could have taken down poor Scizor at that point._

 _With a growl Guzma returned him._

" _But I'm too far to miss out on this chance now!" he argued with the beast still glowing and pulsing as it floated in front of him, but after a moment it disappeared._

 _Yet Guzma apparently could get all the chances he wanted for there were many ultra beasts visible now throughout the cavern as Guzma could see them. He threw an pokéball at the next closest one, but it bounced quite harmlessly off of the ultra beast and it floated away._

"Tch _."_

 _There had to be some way to catch one. Even if he had to do it himself. He would just catch one without a pokéball and drag it back with him through the wormhole! Yeah, that's what he would do!_

 _Thus without another thought, for his mind had been set like stone, he lunged for one to grab it with his bare hands. They seemed docile enough. They were not apparently aggressive as far as he could see. So much for being ultra beasts. And he smiled. He missed it, and he almost landed flat on his face as it floated away._

 _Rebalancing himself, he swung his head around towards it, but another one suddenly appeared just above him. He had barely time look up, but he heard it make its ominous cry before it descended upon him. At first he was just disgusted and tried to push the thing away or grab it so that its slimy surface would be out of his face, but he suddenly found that he did not have much control over his movements. He saw that the ultra beast had not so much fallen on him or lunged at him. It had not even tried to eat him. It had enveloped him like a translucent sheet of dry goo or many soft thread that felt like goo with just enough moisture to feel slightly wet. Being surrounded by the smooth skin of an arbok could not feel much different to the touch, but he could not get out, and it surrounded him like being submerged under deep warm water._

 _At first he struggled, but it did not last long. His mind began to whirl. At first it was dizzy nightmare of thoughts that did not quite take shape formed from memories and dreams all spinning at once, but as the thoughts took shape, he found that they were not all his own. Through the unintelligible babble of his own uncontrollable thoughts came a command. A command to move with the beast, to think with it, to be one with it. They were not words in the human sense, but they were almost stronger than words. At least they were stronger than any word of thought from his own head save perhaps the thought of terror that buzzed through every cell of his body._

 _He had not captured the creature. They creature had captured him, and it was not about to let him go easily. It was in control. Terror shook Guzma harder. His body trembled, and he felt the welling as of tears forming, but they could not be released being in such a flood of dry liquid all around him. It was a wonder that he was alive at all as he could not breathe, but perhaps it was the very energy of the creature being infused into him. Keeping him alive as it overpowered his mind like the worst kind of parasite._

 _But just as Guzma thought he could take no more, he felt that the creature suddenly became irritated. The irritation buzzed through his mind form the mind of the creature like a weapon against his strong emotion of fear. He dropped upon the hard stone floor, and a chill dry air swept around him. Still shivering with fear, he pushed himself up to look at the creature just in time to see it disappear._

 _It had apparently wanted a willing host. Never would Guzma be a willing slave to anything._

 _With that last indomitable thought, all strength in bravery left him. Dropping his head into his arms, he was not sure how long he lay there, still shivering, holding his arms and breathing heavily. His heart pounded loudly in his ears so that even the sound of those whispery shrieks of the ultra beasts sounded distant, but at last he gathered himself up enough to rise to his knees._

 _He thought he heard a voice. A human voice. It had to be Lusamine. He pulled himself to his feet._

" _Pres?" he called, his voice cracked and sounded very shrill, and it surprised him to hear his own voice sound so helpless like a child calling out for his mother._

 _But it was hardly a replacement for a mother he was calling even if she was somebody's mother. She might have been singing, but it was hard to tell the way the cave echoed so. An ultra beast happened to appear a yard or so away, and Guzma instinctively leapt from it and rammed into the wall as he lost his balance. The creature disappeared, but he did not have to go much further to see Lusamine._

" _Oh, my sweet things, my sweet beasts, come, come," she cooed like one in a trance, and Guzma had not doubt that she was._

 _He did not see the Ultra Beasts near her before he ran to her shouting with far more strength that before but still frantic, "Yo, pres! Listen to me! This was a bad idea! Pres!"_

" _Hush," breathed Lusamine in her continued to coo. She smiled but she did not turn to Guzma as she spoke. At first he was not sure if she even was speaking to him. "Hush, poor boy, they do not like your shouting so."_

" _What!?" growled Guzma and he grabbed her by the arms and forced her to look at him._

 _She looked mildly annoyed but nothing else as her eyes focused upon his._

" _Pres! We gotta get out of here! We shouldn't be here! Those things! They're not normal!"_

" _Poor boy," she cooed and smiled again. "Poor boy. Of course they are not normal. That was why we came. My sweet beasts. You are silly to refuse them."_

 _Guzma shook her. "Pres! Snap out of it! You're losing it!"_

 _This time her annoyance was firmer. At least she seemed to be more herself. "Unhand me."_

 _Guzma released her._

" _If you're too narrow minded to see the brilliance of this moment, freaking out on the threshold of something as beautiful as this precious moment," said Lusamine, "then I was wrong to take a simpering little boy like you with me. Team Skull is just for show, isn't it? I guessed as much, but I hoped it wasn't so. You're no different than anyone else."_

" _You lost it!" snarled Guzma, and he made to grab her again and drag her back to the wormhole. "Completely psycho!"_

 _But it was at that moment that the ultra beasts came closer. They seemed to be guarding Lusamine, aware of her every movement. She was already a part of them, wasn't she? Not that Guzma knew how any of this worked, but he was not going to stick around to find out. As terror gripped his heart in a second surge, he could not remain there in that ring with the ultra beasts all staring at him with non-existent eyes._

 _As fast as he could he fled for the worm hole. He reached the spot where he thought he had first emerged into this seemingly endless cave growing seemingly darker. It seemed to him as the lights of the crystal shards seemed to be dimming sinisterly around him making his way more difficult than his way in. They seemed to sing a song of death. The whole place seemed to bespeak death, and even more so when he found that the wormhole was not there._

 _At first he tried to think that it was only the wrong spot, but that did not console him long, for whether or not the escape was there to be found, it was not where he wanted it. Every rock and turn and crystal shard looked the same. He shivered as the whispery shrieks from the ultra beasts echoed in the darkness, and he fled again. This time not knowing where he was going._

 _An ultra beast appeared very near him and Guzma jumped onto a stone. He climbed up onto a ledge and threw a loose chunk of rock at its face. The creature made a cry but disappeared which was all Guzma wanted. He let out a sigh of relief, but he was not calmed. For a while he stood there, and then he sat down. He was lost in a lost world, and no doubt he would be dead before too long and become a skeleton before his time, unburied, unknown and forgotten— a warning to any fool that may try to enter here in the future grinning with that fleshless grin. He did not have to look down to feel the irony of the grinning skull hanging about his neck._

#

" _Wah_!" Guzma suddenly growled as footsteps approached him.

A startled ledyba suddenly flew off in front of his face as his head bolted upward and he opened his eyes.

His first thought was that the thing from the hospital had descended upon him, but he did not think that it had feet to step with. He had been on the fifth floor of a hospital before his flight into the night. He wondered what in the world had happened to it, but he did not wonder long. The footsteps had belonged to something else and they stopped right in front of him.

They belonged to some _one_ , actually.

A man in a long-sleeved lab coat squinted with curiosity down into the weedy hole Guzma was still sitting in, and it was not a man from the Aether Foundation.

"I had no idea that drinking was this bad of a problem in Malie City," he remarked.

Guzma squinted back in disbelief at the idleness of the man hovering above him, stiff-faced and leaning over the hole like some pompous duke from a kiddie movie. From the start, Guzma guessed he was a foreigner. Something about his mannerisms was not Alolan.

"Do you need help out of that hole, young man?" he asked then.

Guzma just squinted harder and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Well, I mean, if you would prefer to spend the morning like a mudbray, I suppose that's your business, but if your hangover isn't too terribly painful I'll help you out."

"Why does everyone think I'm drunk!?" demanded Guzma. "I mean, maybe I'd expect it more from a guy like you, but—" he paused. "All right."

As the man helped him out and onto the grass, the man could not help but mutter, "Are those hospital clothes?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Rather unusual for a man to go running about in hospital clothes out of the hospital."

As he released Guzma the man wiped the mud from his hands with great distaste on a handkerchief from his pocket. From the hole he had seemed very large like the teacher from one's worst nightmares, but now that Guzma was upright again, he towered over him easily like the science geek president of the chess club. Typical science geek; though not quite as nerdy as Faba or Wicke. For behind his nerdy façade he had a very strong face like a carved piece of wood, impassionate. That's what made him not Alolan.

" _Tch_ ," was all Guzma said at first; then after a pause he crossed his arms and looked away. "Yeah, well, it's _rather unusual_ to be chased out of the hospital by some maniac pokémon , don't you think?"

"Indubitably," said the man, and he smiled queerly. "Ahem, I'm not sure if a man like you cares for pleasantries, but I must introduce myself. My name is Dr. Jimson. I've recently arrived on these lovely islands. I like peace and quiet so I was taking a brisk walk just before dawn. Seems the dawn has just descended upon us now."

"Yeah, whatever," muttered Guzma glancing briefly at the first trickling of sunlight coming through the brush.

"And you are?"

"What's it to you?" muttered Guzma, and he headed into the direction of the road.

"It might be better to walk the long way around to Malie City."

Turning around briefly Guzma laughed humorlessly. He turned back ahead of him and continued walking at a steady pace as though he had never paused.

"You're Guzma, aren't you?"

Guzma stopped heavily and quite abruptly. After a second or two of leering out of in front of him wide-eyed he spun around towards Dr. Jimson angrily. It was the tone which bothered him. It had not been a question but a matter-of-fact sort of statement. The casualness with which the doctor spoke made him want to punch him in the nose. Since he was a little too far away to give immediate satisfaction to this desire, he merely growled, "What's it to you?"

"I had been planning to see you this afternoon before I heard about the attack."

"Are you some kind of expert doctor or something? I didn't peg your expertise as being in medicine. See ya at the hospital, doc," grumped Guzma.

"No," said Jimson. "my expertise is actually in exotic pokémon, recently my interest has especially been in such pokémon-like creatures as can be found in alternate dimensions such as the one you had the misfortune to find yourself in unprepared."

After a moment of oppressive silence, Guzma marched back the doctor. His throat felt dry for thirst, his head was throbbing and he felt almost like lying down on the ground just then, but his determination would not let him. With a dangerous look in his dark eyes, Guzma seethed, "What do you want?"

"Well," said the doctor closing his eyes briefly, "I just came from Kanto where they took a certain Lusamine, president of the Aether Foundation. I regret to tell you…" he paused rather sadly. "Well, she passed away."

"What?" demanded Guzma. "No she didn't!"

"I'm afraid, it's true," said Jimson. "A nearly untraceable poison had been introduced into her system from having such contact as she had with the ultra beasts. Allowing herself to be controlled by one, wrapping itself around her. That was why she had to leave Alola. No one on the islands has the equipment and the knowledge to even begin to help her. I arrived too late, and we thought she was the only one affected. When news of you reached my ears however, I knew that you must have contracted the same poison from the alternate universe. Were you in long contact with them?"

"No!" snapped Guzma. "I didn't want anything to do with those things like she did! She was sick! After that thing had me I...!" He voice trailed away, and he clenched his teeth. "The pres isn't really dead, is she?"

"It is so; I'm sorry," said the doctor, "but that was why we needed to get to you so urgently, when I found out that you were ill too."

"Well, did you know about the ultra beasts that were set loose?" demanded Guzma. "Those things that keep popping up out of nowhere to kill me?"

A queasiness grew in his stomach as he tried not to dwell on Lusamine's death. He could not allow himself to think about it now as much as it hurt.

"The attack last night," said the doctor nodding gravely and just a touch nervously and nervousness was not becoming on so straight and orderly-looking a man. His long smooth face somehow did not seem to make it look natural.

"So we go back to the hospital?"

"Oh, there isn't time for that," retorted the doctor. "We have to get the next boat to Melemele Island!"

"Melemele? Why there? There's nothing there that isn't here!"

"My base of operations," said the doctor. "We need to get you there as soon as possible and then possibly ship you to the laboratories in Unova."

"Unova!" snapped Guzma. "I'm not going to Unova!"

"It's a matter of life and death, Mr. Guzma!" gasped the doctor. "You want to live, don't you?"

Guzma glowered a moment and turned away. "I want my clothes first."

"Very well, we'll get them for you, but first I'll get you to my jeep. It's not far along Route 11. I'll send Chaz whose waiting for me at the jeep to go get your clothes and explain things to the hospital. It shouldn't be hard to explain, especially since I already ran into Pr. Kukui and he'll vouch for my credibility."

"Kukui knows about this too?" asked Guzma with a smoldering pout.

"Well, the attack on the hospital is no secret, I can assure you of that," said Dr. Jimson, "though you have now confirmed that what attacked the hospital was indeed an ultra beast."

"Fine, fine, let's just get out of here, okay? I don't wanna stand around near some route in hospital PJs. I have a reputation, y'know?"

"Of course, Mr. Guzma, of course. In the boat you can wear a spare lab coat so you won't look overly strange."

" _Tch_."

A person like him would almost look as strange in a lab coat as he did in hospital pajamas as far as Guzma was concerned.

* * *

 _*Snowdrop is Moon_


	4. Fields and Flowers

JMJ

CHAPTER 4: Fields and Flowers

There was something about Chaz that Guzma did not like. It was not the attire so much, though the industrial suit he wore reminded him somewhat of the Aether foundation as though in some sort of rivalry. His uppity snout held up like some stiff-necked art critic from Kalos, was highly irritating, but it was more than that. It had mostly to do with how that skinny little critic seemed to look up at Guzma as though he was some pathetic excuse for a statue. Together Chaz and Jimson made a wonderfully annoying pair, and even as he thought this Guzma let out a " _tch_."

But Chaz did not stay long as Jimson sent the man away to the hospital.

"Don't forget Mr. Guzma's clothes," the doctor reminded him.

Chaz nodded, and hardly had he left the jeep when the good doctor climbed into the front and Guzma got in beside him.

"So what are we exactly going to do?" asked Guzma as they stepped onto the ferry, jeep and all, from Ula'ula to Melemele; he wore the long lab coat, but he did not think about it now that they were on their way.

"Well, my base is near Seaward Cave, so first we'll get there. Then we'll treat you with the antidote. We have an ultra beast captured at this moment."

Guzma glowered. "You do?"

"Yes," said the doctor, "it's part of the process. Poison must be extracted in order to be neutralized, isn't that right?"

"Yeah, so you have the antidote now?"

"Not quite," said Jimson. "Remember I was going to see you this afternoon, but my staff are working on the finishing touches as we speak. It needs to be proven safe to use, of course."

Once having landed Jimson drove his jeep through Hau'oli city eastwards. There were a couple sandwiches and a water canteen for Guzma on the way, and Jimson promised him a proper meal once they reached the base.

"Fine, just as long as Chaz brings my clothes," Guzma muttered.

"He will, he will."

Though, Guzma had to admit that he was glad he was not wearing his clothes, so that no one would immediately recognize him. He lived on Melemele, after all; though driving through the city was good, for without the X-Team Skull leader dressing as he appeared on TV citizens of Hau'oli wouldn't know him by sight. His home neighborhood was way on the west side of the island, and he was glad that they did not have to pass that way. It was not as if he was afraid anyone would try to stop him, but just the thought of someone trying annoyed him. Besides he was not in an overly talkative mood with such people. He was almost glad Dr. Jimson was not an Alolan native. That way he did not insist upon talking overly cheerful and expecting Guzma to respond the same.

They turned at the Hou'oli Outskirts up the west-lane of Route 1, and then again at the sharp-nosed needle corner away from the straighter road towards Iki Town. They were headed out to the northern edge of Kala'e Bay at which point the jeep was rolled onto a low barge-like boat and up to the mouth of Seaward Cave.

Although they had traveled in silence for some time, at this point Guzma crossed his arms and turned to Jimson with a raised brow.

"So your base in along the mouth here?"

"No it's in the cave," replied the doctor.

He spoke with nearly a shrug, but he was too stiff to let it out in more than his voice and a slight roll of his shoulders.

Guzma slumped his, and glowered harder, not especially liking how things were going, but he ignored the inner voice of concern. He wanted to be cured. He wanted it now, and a few eccentricities of a foreign doctor were not going to stop him from getting that, especially not in the form of a little voice of a concern. Though, he had to admit it he found that voice a little more keenly than he had the last time he had felt it, because that little voice remembered what happened the last time he had ignored it. For it was when he had decided to jump into the Ultra Worm Hole after Lusamine, and look where that had gotten him.

Just inside the opening of the cave, Chaz was strangely there to meet them. The only explanation for his getting there ahead of them was that he had flown over on some pokémon, but Guzma was less happy to see him than he had been to meet him as they landed just inside upon the metal dock.

Chaz calmly handed Guzma his clothes. Guzma snatched them roughly away as his due.

"So where's your lab or whatever?" demanded Guzma. "This is just a platform at the entrance of a cave. There's nothing exceptional about it. People can come through here all the time. I didn't know you _could_ build in here. Where'd you get the permission for that? Yo, you listening to me or what, doc?"

Neither Jimson nor Chaz seemed to be listening at all as they walked up against the cave wall and Chaz reached under a ledge as though he had hidden a few coins there. Guzma marched his way over to them losing his temper, but he had no chance to say anymore when he found what Chaz had been looking for had been a door handle.

Well, not so much a handle as a button or lever of some sort. He still could not see it, but he saw the result of it and it staggered as he looked up to see the very cave wall moving to one side.

"What the—"

A dimly lit hall was on the other side, and as he followed the men into the hallway, Chaz pushed something else on the inside and both the dock and the boat were sucked under the entrance to the corridor. Looking back out into the cave Guzma made a slight " _Tch_."

" _How_ long's this base been here?" he asked.

"Before I came to use it," said the doctor.

"Well, I didn't know anything about it," said Guzma, and the cave wall covered the view outside as it slid back into place.

"You're not too strained by all this excitement I hope," said Jimson, checking his watch.

"It doesn't matter, doc, if you cure me now that we're here."

"Indeed," said Jimson with a sharp nod. "Chaz, lead the way, and we'll follow."

"Sir," said Chaz curtly and led the way with a strange expression that made Guzma bristle slightly and want to give him a good sock in the face too.

But he did not have to look at his face as he took the lead, the doctor next and Guzma at the rear. He glanced back briefly at the false stony wall blocking the cave, and he could not help but wonder if it was easy to get back out of this place again without one of those losers' permission. Suddenly he had a desire to have his pokémon with him, but he remembered that he had left them at Shady House.

 _Plumeria should've brought my pokémon to the hospital_ , he thought.

She had promised to get them for him during her visit, but she had forgotten them when they first decided to come. There had been no time for a second visit since that ultra beast had broken him out of the hospital.

The corridor led them into a wide metallic space like a great hall. The ceiling was not overly high but a couple feet above his head; though in some spots the ceiling went up into pockets with wire and tubes. The wires also ran along the ceiling into walls in some spots. Doors lined the hall on either side almost like a wing of classrooms at a university, except that there were no windows. Voices of people hummed above the hum or electric pulses, and there was the sound of some pokémon making some irritated call.

"The ultra beast?" asked Guzma, eyeing his host.

The doctor nodded, but did not speak for another moment as Chaz led them through the hall, down a short flight of broad steps and to a small door with a latch handle.

"You can go in here to get dressed and rest a little," said Jimson then as Chaz opened the door to reveal a strange but not uncomfortable dark bedroom. There was a bathroom to one side like at a nice hotel, and the bed was low but broad. The walls gleamed metallically as Chaz turned on the low but clear light.

"Where will you be?" asked Guzma.

"Checking on your antidote, Mr. Guzma," said Dr. Jimson. "In about an hour I'll get you for a decent meal, as I promised, and we'll discuss how the procedure is to be done. Meanwhile I would suggest that you take a bath and rest a little."

Guzma glanced at Chaz.

"What about him?" Guzma demanded.

"He won't be any trouble to you. He's coming with me."

Somehow that did not satisfy him, but other than a "tch" Guzma said no more and he was left to his room alone.

#

Although he had thought about leaving while Jimson and Chaz were away, Guzma found himself nonetheless at the table of that strange doctor three hours after he had last seen him. The meal admittedly tasted quite good. Steak, gravy, potatoes, beans, and rice— all top quality, and normally he was not much of a green been person, nor was he much of a vodka person either, but he thought he could almost change his mind with the stuff Jimson brought. On top of that he had felt much better after having been able to take a shower and after he had eaten he felt at least content if not refreshed.

Refreshed was still a long way off, he found as he began to yawn wearily. Although he had slept a little in the room they had provided, he felt himself nodding off even as Jimson tried to talk to him. Thoughts swam in a lazy sort of way but overpowering enough to take him away from the present. A battle with a certain little girl that he never seemed to be able to beat came hazily within his vision. As his imagined figure sneered in his squatting stance to order Golisopod to attack Snowdrop's icy ninetails he was almost falling asleep face-first into his bowl of rice when he at last heard Dr. Jimson say in a manner as though he had already repeated it several times, "Mr. Guzma."

" _Hmrrph_?" grunted Guzma blinking and straightening himself. "Oh, right. You gunna tell me or what, doc?"

"Well, I explained what's good for the present, if you were listening," said Dr. Jimson, "but I'm afraid you're already quite far gone. When you finish your meal you may want to get a little sleep first."

"No!" Guzma said, quite awake now. "No. Now!"

Without a word, Jimson studied him a moment as if trying to decide something. He glanced idly at his watch then and afterwards said, "I think you need to finish your meal first. Then straight afterwards we'll begin. The antidote isn't quite prepared yet."

"But you're going to explain some procedure, aren't you?" asked Guzma, but he did pause for a drink.

"Only that it requires you to be very still once we start," said Jimson. "It isn't that complicated, but it may sound a bit graphic for the table."

Guzma laughed. "I don't care about that. Besides if it's that intense of a procedure it's probably better if I don't eat a lot, right? I'm mean you know your job, but I always thought you needed an empty stomach to perform serious medical procedures."

"Oh, you won't be unconscious," said Jimson, "otherwise I wouldn't have told you that you have to be still, but if you're done eating, then follow me and we'll get started then. I was only trying to put you at ease."

"Right, let's started," said Guzma; though he had to admit that the more Jimson spoke about ease and comfort and simplicity the more Guzma felt that there was something Jimson was not telling him that he knew Guzma would not agree with.

He wanted him to just come out with it already. He was tired of the "ease the patient" game. He was no weakling. He could handle it. Unless there was something experimental about all this that not even the doctors knew about.

 _Maybe Chaz never even went to tell the hospital..._

It was not the first time this thought crossed his mind, but only now did it feel possible. Not only did it seem possible it soon became plausible as a woman dressed much like Chaz whispered something into Jimson's ear just before they left. Jimson glanced at Guzma strangely as the woman turned to leave them, but neither Guzma nor Jimson said anything about it until they left the bright dining room and stepped into the cold dark corridor outside.

"Out with it, doc," said Guzma then.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't give me that," said Guzma. "What's going on here? What's the secret? How is this gunna work?"

Jimson cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Mr. Guzma. You're right. It's not fair to leave you in the dark any longer."

Guzma crossed his arms. "That's right, it's not."

"So here's what is going to happen," said Jimson. "We are going to take you out into the meadow."

"Meadow?"

"Melemele Meadow."

"I know where you're talking about! What do you mean in the meadow? Are the fairy pokémon from Unova gunna do some heal bell dance around me?"

"No," said Jimson, "you're going to sit there until an ultra beast shows up."

"But you said you had an ultra beast, is this some kind of joke?"

"They _are_ attracted to you, and it's hypothesized that one has already been lurking about in the meadow just outside our cave. I know it will come. You've been in the worm hole. You've had exposure to the ultra beasts directly against you. Directly injected into your system. Even if only for a few seconds you were one with the ultra beast just as Lusamine. In this world they are confused and the scents you carry from the alternate dimension are infused inside of you. You bring them familiarities of home, but of course the whys are just theories. _Heh_."

It was the smile that broke the dumbfounded spell that had befallen Guzma as the doctor spoke. That smile that spread over that mad scientist's face as he finished was just the last straw. Quite abruptly Guzma lunged forward and grabbed Jimson by the shoulders and rammed him into the nearby wall next to the dining room door.

"You squealie little freak! You brought me all the way here to catch a stupid ultra beast!" snarled Guzma. "I should just—!"

"Shut up and be still," said a gruff voice behind him.

But before he could turn around a sound of a whip swung towards him and two very strong green ropes wrapped him as tight as a fly in a web. It was a pokémon's vine-whip though he could not see which one.

Breathing heavily for a moment, the doctor recovered himself and straightened his collar and lab coat as Guzma continued to struggle.

"Now, now," said the doctor dryly, "although you have a right to be concerned, struggling will only wear you to your death like a pokémon that's run out of enough energy to fight with any useful attack."

"Who do you think you are?!" Guzma snapped in return, "you can't do this to me!"

"Yes, I know, you're _Big Bad_ Guzma," said Jimson, "the hated boss of the infamous Team Skull. Infamous for being a pathetic display of a team. A miserable joke. Pawns to a foolish madwoman."

The rage that flared up inside of him inhibited Guzma's very ability to speak, or maybe he was just too tired by this point to fight. He felt so weak and helpless. Even if had not been tied up, he was not sure he would have been able to overpower Jimson long enough to escape, especially as his workers seemed to come out of the woodwork all around him. He fell to his knees and shook with anger and clenched his fists which were held at the wrists to his sides.

"You have no idea what a team truly means. This facility was once a secret base for the ever-groping fingers of Team Rocket back in their imperial prime long ago. Crime syndicate. Perhaps you've heard of them? Perhaps they were your inspiration. I admire that. Really I do."

"You're from Team Rocket?" grumbled Guzma.

"No," said Jimson, "but I fought them once. I used to work as a scientist for Team Plasma. Now there was a team that was no joke. There were certain complicated matters that made it practical to leave, but I learned all I needed to know. All teams are much too flashy to go on without being rooted up, but Team Skull is almost more pathetic than the rival Teams Magma and Aqua, and its leader is the stupidest one to date. Some administrators in other teams are more of a threat than you. Just some punk _kid_. Had it disbanded because you were afraid of a few island policemen and had to go crying home to your mother."

"Shut up!" Guzma shouted, but his voice cracked. He was so worn out, and his passions were making it worse.

"Come, let's get this X-Team Skull boss to the meadow before he explodes and kills himself," said Jimson.

His followers obeyed. The pokémon, a victreebell, a species mostly unknown in Alola, brought Guzma along with them through Seaward Cave around the deep pools and amongst the dripping and echoing in the darkness. The way was lit by a single lantern, and there was no one else in the cave that he could see. Nevertheless Guzma tried to yell out, but he was quickly gagged. When they emerged in Melemele Meadow the first of the stars were just peaking out overhead. A light breeze blew to meet them, which might have been refreshing if it had not been for the situation.

They had already bound Guzma in ropes by now, and as they dragged him across the ground, he made this as difficult as possible for them. Shifting and struggling at just the right moments to make at least one trip up over the shifting mounds hidden beneath the sleeping flowers, but it was no use in the end. They tightly tied him with his back against a tree of gently blowing leaves, and as the last of the day's light disappeared over the cliffs and all the stars lit up brightly overhead, they waited out of sight.

Nothing happened. Some petilil moving about were the most exciting thing in the whole meadow for quite some time until a couple of Jimson's men dressed as policemen gently convinced a trainer out for a night catching was told that police business was being conducted there. After he left, still the party waited. In time Guzma could not keep his eyes open; though he meant to stay awake until he could escape.

He was too weary. It was a weariness that could be felt to the very core of his body and mind. The poison of the ultra beast as Jimson had said? Guzma did not know, but he was asleep before he knew it. Though, admittedly he was not alone. The peaceful quiet of the night meadow had most everyone nodding at least once. Even Dr. Jimson himself was asleep by the time dawn crept over the meadow, and still nothing had happened.

Then suddenly Guzma was awake. From a dreamless sleep he opened his eyes to the dawn making the yellow flowers look golden. Oricorio sang their morning songs and the breeze was so gentle it barely tickled the ends of his hair. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first, and the only thing that he could think of that might have woken him might have been the passing of a butterfree or a cutiefly flying by, but that was when he noticed something else. There were no butterfree or cutiefly or even a cottonee about in the meadow. Although the oriocorio could be heard they could not be seen either, and they did not exactly sound like happy birds greeting the day.

There was a tone of urgency. Some of Jimson's men noticed it too and woke up rather befuddled. Then the oricorio went silent.

The meadow seemed to hold its breath a moment. Guzma could hear his heart thumping loudly in his chest as though the whole meadow could hear it.

 _I'm not afraid_ , he thought.

But he was. He began to feel himself tremble a little. He was so bound he could not even cry out. An ultra beast would have him in a second, and he knew that was what had to be coming. That was when the wind picked up.

Even before it appeared Guzma had his eyes shut, but he heard it. A buzz like a beedril on loudspeakers filled the air. It was almost like the sound of a whiny helicopter. Shouts came from the people around him. Jimson woke just then with such a start that he might have fallen flat on his face even without the wind and the deep droning of the ultra beast.

"Catch it! Catch it!" he cried.

Pokéballs flew, and pokémon appeared, but Guzma already knew that the ultra beast would pay none of them any attention. The buzzing did not grow any louder or closer, and at last Guzma dared to open his eyes. It was a bug, he guessed, but that was about it. It looked like it had the strength of an eighties action figure in the flesh. Its chest looked to be enough to knock down whole buildings behind the plating of its exoskeleton, and along its face as a long mosquito-like nozzle, and the whole body gleamed, a ruby shell in the first peaking of sunlight over the rocky bowl around the meadow. It was like being thrust into a coliseum and tied to a stake for a hungry beast to attack at will.


End file.
